


The Spartan Life

by wildglitterwolf



Category: Once Upon A Time In Hollywood (2019)
Genre: Cliff trying to be the best host, M/M, Rick is going to be miserable, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-16
Updated: 2021-01-18
Packaged: 2021-03-09 20:55:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 13,509
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27592360
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wildglitterwolf/pseuds/wildglitterwolf
Summary: Rick's house needs to get tented for termites and insists that he stay with Cliff during the time. There's just one problem: Cliff never told him what his living situation is like. But Rick insisted, and now he's going to have to learn to live like Cliff for a few days.
Relationships: Cliff Booth/Rick Dalton
Comments: 20
Kudos: 31





	1. Day 1

**Author's Note:**

> This has literally been sitting in my queue since LAST November so this idea has been around in my head for awhile. I don't know why I kept delaying but finally starting. Might be slow on finishing depending on how much I can get done before starting work but it's something!

“I can’t believe I just bought this house a couple fucking years ago and I-I already gotta fucking tent it, shit.” 

Rick growled between his teeth and he lit his cigarette in frustration as he watched the termite inspector walk back to his van. “I-I bet it ain’t even that bad, fucker just trying to make a sale.”

“Ah, Rick. It won’t be that bad. About three days up in a hotel could be fun.” 

Shit, another bill on top of the one this was going to cost him. And he didn’t know where he was career wise after Universal just cut ties with his four picture deal because the fucking sea otter picture was an absolute disaster. He still hadn’t told Cliff after being told this about a week ago as he was just too embarrassed. 

“Or I can just fucking stay with you. I mean, I basically pay for your place.”

“Uh…” Cliff also had been withholding information for a while that he had to downgrade from the apartment once he realized income would be far less steady than it had been already. “I kinda had to move into a smaller space, man.”

“That’s fine.”

“No, I mean, really small.”

“Shit, Cliff, could you just help me out? I fucking do all the time for you.”

Oh, Cliff knew he should tell him where he was living now, because he knew when they pulled up and Rick saw it he’d ask to turn around and head straight to the nearest hotel. But… if Rick was so insistent…

“Yeah, sure man. You can stay at my place. Just don’t complain if the situation isn’t to your liking.”

“The situation is already not to my liking, I don’t see how it could be worse.”

\---

It was worse. 

Even when Rick thought it was odd Cliff decided to pull into a drive-in theater in the middle of the day, he didn’t question it until they were around back with pumpjacks and trailers situated about and pulled in front of one. Once Rick recognized Cliff’s motorbike out in front of it, it all clicked.

“Nah. Nah, man, y-y-you don’t fucking live here, come on, shit.”

“Yeah, Rick. I do. So you want me to take you to the hotel?”

Rick didn’t know what he was feeling. Embarrassment that he pushed for this? Guilt that Cliff was living like this? But he was also stubborn and wasn’t going to be run out either.

“Hey. I said I’d stay so I’m gonna fucking stay.”

“Fine. Your funeral.” Cliff smirked and turned off the car engine. “Wait here while I get Brandy alerted that you’re also here.”

Rick had only met Cliff’s pit bull puppy when he first got her, but it’s been a few months and she was probably going to be bigger at this point. He watched Cliff disappear inside and emerged with a much larger Brandy than the last time he saw her, on a leash and barking her head off when she finally laid eyes on Rick.

“Hey!” Cliff didn’t yell the command but made sure it was sharp as he gave her a tug on the leash until she finally quieted and sat still beside him. “Rick’s a friend. You probably don’t remember him but he’s our buddy, alright? Now he’s gonna be staying with us so you’ll have to share the couch with him.”

“Wh-what? Couch??”

Cliff laughs and shakes his head. “Nah, man. You can have my bed. I’ll take the couch.”

“Now, hold on! I don’t f-feel right about kicking you off your damn bed, Cliff!”

“What, you wanna share?” Cliff asks with a sly grin. He sees the look of shock on Rick’s face before continuing on. “I’m kidding, it’s basically a cot. There ain’t any room for two of us on that thing.”

“But the couch-”

“I got a sleeping bag, an extra pillow. I can sleep on the floor by you if that makes you feel better. Like an ol’ fashion slumber party.”

Rick was going to reply with something along the lines of he’s never been to a slumber party, but he also didn’t want to waste anymore time arguing on the subject matter seeing as he had an audition later that evening. “Sure, fine. Sleep on the floor like a damn dog.”

“Woof.”

\---

Rick couldn’t help but feel a little guilt after Cliff gave a ‘tour’ of his humble adobe. The ‘living room’ set up was much more cluttered compared to his with barely much space. The bathroom was even more of a tight squeeze than the ones he used on set, and he wasn’t exactly looking forward to having to bathe later in that sorry excuse for a shower. And the bedroom, well, Cliff wasn’t kidding when he said he slept on a cot seeing as it was one. Guess Cliff never grew out of the old military lifestyle, and there was barely any room to walk around once Cliff laid the sleeping bag out and pillow to show Rick he’d be fine stuck down low between the dresser and the cot. But Cliff seemed happy here, no clue why the hell he would, but shit, his partner deserved better than this. Hell, the dog deserved better than this.

But his partner was also a fucking slob.

“Cliff, this place is nasty.”

“Yeah, it's a bit ironic that you hired me to do your housework, huh?”

Rick wrinkles his nose at the pile of dirty dishes in the sink. Cliff knew that was one of his pet peeves, and he was wondering if he didn’t clean them on purpose to force him to choose the hotel instead. Well Cliff Booth wasn’t going to win that easily.

“Guess I better go grab your bags. If there’s room in here for them.” Cliff claps Rick on the back as Brandy follows him outside, leaving Rick faced to face with his enemy piled high in the sink. 

Should he? _Should he??_

Cliff was barely gone a minute when he came back carrying Rick’s two large bags through the back door into the bedroom. He dumped them on the floor before peeking his head into the kitchen, desperately trying hard not to laugh as he catches Rick furiously trying to clean the grease out of a pan. “Whatcha doing there, partner?”

Rick yelps as he was expecting Cliff to come back through the front door, glaring at him hard for sneaking up on him. “You could at least fucking dry for me,” he says, tossing the dishrag at Cliff’s face.

“Aye, alright.” Cliff pulls the dishrag off his face and sets about drying the couple of dishes Rick already had done. “So nervous about tonight?”

Rick scoffs. Cliff knows what that means.

“Ah, you’ll be fine.”

“Cliff, I’m only getting fucking television guest spot audtions. N-no studio is offering me film scripts anymore since that f-f-fucking sea otter ruined me.”

“Hey, I thought you were fine in that, I mean, it was a kids’ movie after all right?”

“I was panned, Cliff. Panned.”

“Aw well, they can’t all be _Mary Poppins_ , now can they?”

The sea otter banter continued until all the dishes were cleaned, with Cliff commenting that he didn’t think he’d seen them that spotless since the day he bought them. 

“Wanna clean anything else around here while you’re at it, partner?”

“Jesus, Cliff. How the hell can you keep my place clean but you can’t fucking even be bothered to wash your damn dishes?”

Cliff casually leans against the counter, wraps an arm around Rick’s waist and pulls him close. To his surprise, Rick didn’t object to this. “Because. I’m rarely home. And when I am home, it’s usually after a hard day of you riding my ass with your laundry lists of tasks. So sometimes a man just wants to relax with his dog, eat dinner, watch TV, and go to bed. Not do more housework that he spent all his energy using up on his boss.”

“Oh so it’s _my_ fault you live like a dog.”

“Now you get it!” Cliff sees Rick’s face scrunch up in annoyance and gives Rick a kiss on the nose. “You best get ready for your audition, man.”

Rick huffs, but since Cliff already has him like this, he decides to go in for a quick kiss on the lips before suddenly pulling away without eye contact and heads towards the back room to change. Cliff just sighs as he watches him go; Rick still wasn’t used to being that intimate with him, even in private. It was like Rick was constantly paranoid that someone was always watching, like the paparazzi was ready to bust in and ruin his career with the perfect tabloid shot and headline.

While Rick was changing, Cliff made himself a quick grocery list since he figured he should at least try to feed Rick something somewhat edible. Rick didn’t have anywhere to go tomorrow but Cliff needed to finish fixing up his bike, and since Cliff was Rick’s ride, Rick was going to be stuck here all day. Poor guy.

Cliff couldn’t help the somewhat evil laugh that escaped him.

\---

Cliff managed to get his grocery shopping done in time before Rick got out. But the look on Rick’s face when he got to the car did not look like a guy who would appreciate home cooking right now, especially from a guy who was already questionable at cooking in general.

“Burgers or tacos?”

“Ughhhh shit, g-goddamn, I don’t fucking care.”

Cliff decided to drive until he found the first fast-food joint that was a reasonable distance to his trailer, which ended up being a McDonald’s. 

‘Hey-o, that’s this? Introducing the “Big Mac”. Wanna try one?”

“Whatever.”

“Alright… be right back.” Cliff got out of the car and went to stand in line, turning around occasionally to see how Rick was doing. By the third look around when Cliff finally got to the window, Rick was sobbing. 

“Yeah. Better add a couple chocolate shakes to that order. Thanks.”

\---

The ride home was spent with Rick going over every single thing wrong with his addition, from how he flubbed his lines or missed his mark, or even the person he was reading off of clearly gave the impression that she thought he was shit without saying so. And he did all this with his mouth at different variations of being stuffed with fries and shake until he barely had any left when they got to the trailer.

Cliff went in first to keep Brandy in check, telling her he’d feed her after they ate since their burgers were getting cold. He tuned Rick’s rambling out as he went to at least make sure Brandy still had water, before turning to see where Rick’s motor-mouth had now settled.

“Hey, man. You’re in my chair.”

Rick had instinctively sat in front of the main chair directly facing the TV, as he would at home. “Does it f-fucking matter??”

Cliff’s eyes widened and he quirked an eyebrow. “This, coming from the guy who kicks me out of his chair if I even so glance at it. ‘I’m king of the castle, and this is my throne’, I recall you saying. Well guess who is king of this castle?”

“B-b-but I had a bad day!” 

_Shit, there he goes with the puppy dog eyes._

“If I let you get away with shit, that’s going to set a bad example for Brandy, as she ain’t allowed to sit there. Go on, off to the couch.” Cliff gives a sharp whistle and points to the couch, knowing Brandy is watching her alpha take charge of the pack and reminding her that no one is going to walk all over him.

Rick grumbles and takes his nearly empty shake to the couch, slurping that last bit as loud as he could on purpose. 

Cliff grins as he sits down and pulls out each of their burgers and hands one to Rick before assessing the fry damage. “Shit, man. You ate from both, didn’t you?”

“Oh, just f-fucking keep the rest.”

Cliff shakes his head, just steals a few from one of them to add to his before giving Rick the bag. Rick didn’t refuse.

“You know what I like to do with these? I like to dip them in my shake.”

“That’s nasty, Cliff.”

“Nah, here try one.” Cliff opens the lid of his shake carefully placed on the TV tray, dips a fry in and wipes the excess off before offering it to Rick.

“I said that’s nasty.”

Cliff shrugs and eats it, trying to sell it with a moan at that salty and sweet goodness. He eats a few more like this and doesn’t say a thing when he catches Rick out of the corner of his eye carefully opening his shake lid and scraping some off the side with a fry. 

“Probably better with vanilla, though.”

Rick eats it and doesn’t quite hate it so he doesn’t say anything. He finishes off the rest of his fries before taking the burger box and opening it. “What the fuck? THREE buns?”

“Hmm?” Cliff opens his box and pulls out the Big Mac to examine it. “Well what do you know, there are.”

“How the hell do you eat it?”

“Man, it’s not that huge and I know your mouth is big enough for one,” Cliff smirks as he takes a bite before talking with his mouth full. “Not bad.”

Rick grumbles at the comment but takes a bite without much issue. “It’s fine.”

They continued their night in front of the TV like any regular night back at Rick’s, just with a different environment, Rick being downgraded to the couch, and having to shit in a really crowded bathroom. But other than that, life was pretty much normal.

“Well I best be taking Brandy for a walk and then get ready for bed.”

“What, i-it’s only nine?”

“Yeah. And I’m usually up no later than five. You just are on a different schedule.”

“The fuck you doing up that early?”

“Work-out. Walk Brandy again. Let her off leash a bit before the neighbors are up and complain. Tinker with the bike some, maybe ride it. And all before I gotta go to your place and drag you out of bed.”

“Well you ain’t gotta g-get me so stay up late.”

“Rick. I don’t know if you noticed but there really ain’t much to do around here. Other than catch the showing at the drive-in but I don’t gotta see the same movie every night. Now you wanna come walk Brandy with me or stay here?”

“Y-you go.”

Rick watches Cliff leash Brandy up and head off. He waits a few minutes before making sure he’s gone, suddenly gets up and heads to take a shower. Rick figured if he had to suffer and take one in a wet bath, he might as well do it while Cliff isn’t around. But he was too busy thinking about how fast he wanted to get this over and done with that by the time he was done stripping down and turning the water on to soak for a few minutes, it was too late for him to think about where the towels might be. Or the fucking shampoo and conditioner. 

“Fucking hell, goddamnit,” he yells to himself as he turns the water off and sits on the toilet debating what he should do. If he goes out there, he’s going to leave a water trail and Cliff will know he was showering. If he stays in here, Cliff will know he was showering. Sighing, Rick decides to just wait it out and see if he could just drying off enough before Cliff got back 

“He’d know either way because you’re hair is fucking wet, you moron. Yeah, but this shithole will be a bitch to find anything, and you’re gonna probably get your fucking sleeping area wet in the process. Goddamnit, Rick. You’re such an idiot. Why do you care if he even knows you’re showering, huh? You think he gets joy out-out-out of seeing you miserable? Yeah, shit, I know he was the one who tried to f-fucking talk me out of it. I-I-I didn’t know it was this bad, shit. I fucking pay him well enough, right? Well...I thought I did. I-I can’t really afford to give him a raise right n-now. J-just ask him to move in, Rick. Come on, just ask. What’s the worst that can happen?”

_He’ll say no._

It was finally silent enough that Rick could hear the shower drip, and the realization he was actually kinda cold sitting here. And sat he did for what felt like an eternity until finally he heard the front door open and felt the trailer move slightly as Brandy bounded in followed by Cliff.

“Rick?”

“Hey, uh… could you g-g-get me a towel?”

“Shit, man. Should have asked before I left. Did you need shampoo?”

“Yeah, uh- th-that’d b-be great.”

Rick heard a door open and rustling around before the bathroom door opened just enough to slip in the basket of all Rick needed to wash himself with.

“Here. Towel will be right outside when you’re done.”

“Th-thanks.”

Rick didn’t think about it until after he turned the water on again, but he appreciated Cliff’s modesty to not fling the door open and have a laugh at his miserable expense. Sometimes he thought Cliff could be a straight up asshole, but Cliff always knew the limit, like he was just very intune with how he knew Rick would be feeling.

“I appreciate it!” Rick called out suddenly.

“Appreciate what?”

_Goddamn, Rick. The fuck are you doing??_

“Uh… giving me the sh-shampoo.”

“Well that’s kinda delayed but sure. Thanks.”

At this point, Rick was almost too embarrassed to come out.

“So. You gonna save me some hot water?”

Well, now he had to.

“Shit, yeah. Sorry, sorry!” Rick quickly rinses the conditioner out and shuts the water off, cracks the door open enough to grab the towel and dries off as best he can in the crowded space. With the towel still wrapped around his waist, he heads out without looking at Cliff. “All yours.”

“Thanks.” 

Rick feels a clap on his shoulder as Cliff heads in, finally turning around once the door closes and taking a sigh of relief. He sees Cliff had set up the sleeping area for the night; the cot with more layers of blankets than he originally saw on the tour earlier and now there was a sleeping bag and mat on the floor next to him. 

“Could you put the towel on the bed in front of the door for me, partner? I’d appreciate it.”

“Y-yeah. Sure.” Rick puts the clean towel in front of the door, not sure what he should do with the wet one. He decides the kitchen is probably the safest for now and tosses it on the counter, noticing Brandy watching him from the couch.

“Look girl, I-I don’t know what to do with it, alright?”

Brandy keeps staring.

“Oh, d-did you use to sleep back there with Cliff? Did I take- wait, no, Cliff would be where you’d sleep. He wouldn’t let you have the fucking cot, shit.”

Brandy just woofs softly and puts her head back down.

“Shit, look at me, arguing with a dog. I’m going to go mad here.”

Rick suddenly remembered he was fully nude when he heard the water turn off. Darting back as quickly as he can, he starts tearing into his bag to pull out underwear, finally grabbing a pair when he hears the water start up again. Relieved he still had some time, he finishes getting dressed and tries settling into bed as best he can.

“Fuck. How the f-fuck does he sleep like, this?” Rick mutters to himself as he tosses and turns trying to find a sweet spot where he could get comfortable. It doesn’t take him long to realize nothing will be perfect and settles for what he thinks will cause him the least amount of pain by morning. Luckily for him, it was facing the wall so he didn’t have to worry about trying to avoid watching Cliff get dressed when he hears him come out of the bathroom.

“Tired?”

“You fucking said there’s nothing e-else to do here so-”

“Yeah, but if you ain’t tired-”

“I-I’m tired.”

“Alright.”

Rick felt he heard something in Cliff’s reply. Annoyance? Disappointment? Defeat? Or maybe his mind was just trying to sabotage him again.

“ThanksforlettingmestayNIGHT!” Rick quickly spewed out and threw the covers over his head, hoping that would be the end of that.

“You’re welcome. Night, Rick.”


	2. Day 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The books mentioned in this chapter are real books sal_paradise found the cover art for back during the novel announcement and I did find My Purple Winter to read online and yeah, the beginning really is just the guy talking about his mother smothering him with love is the reason why he's gay. I don't think Rick would would have reacted well to that so this was the result.

Rick slowly came to the next morning when the light finally hit his face just right through the window. Wincing slightly, he cracks an eye open and starts slapping at the curtains as if that would make much of a difference. Once he realizes his attempts are futile, he rolls over to see if Cliff was awake yet.

Well he must be, seeing as he was missing.

“Cliff? You in the bathroom?”

No response. But then Rick got his answer when he heard a sharp whistle outside followed by ‘Brandy, stay put.’ Rick sits up and pulls the curtain up to see what Cliff was up to. Cliff was shirtless and in his dirtiest pair of jeans covered in grease and oil stains, crouched down next to his bike with his tools all laid out. Brandy was settled next to him as Cliff waves to someone off in the distance, giving a friendly ‘Morning, Frank’ as the other man raises his hand in acknowledgement.

“That’s right, he said he had to work on the bike. So what the fuck am I suppose to do?”

Rick decides he might as well get dressed and scavenge for breakfast. Cliff did go shopping last night and stocked up on bagels and cereal, and if Rick wanted to be adventurous he could make some eggs. But Rick just settles on a bagel and glass of Ovaltine since he didn’t want to attempt to make coffee with Cliff’s equipment. Rick eats over the sink, where he gets a perfect view of Cliff tinkering away with the early morning sun glistening off his body. How did he never truly notice what a beautifully sculpted guy Cliff was?

“Shit, Rick. Too goddamn early for thinking like that,” Rick scolds himself with his mouth full and wipes his hands clean of crumbs before downing his glass of Ovaltine. “Probably isn’t for him, though, the fucker.”

Rick was kicking himself for not bringing something to read. Or anything to do, really. There was a brief moment where he thought he could just clean out Cliff’s trailer for him but he didn’t know what was off limits to touch. Cliff had comics but he wasn’t interested in reading those. Nor did he feel like putting any records on since he still wouldn’t be doing anything. Finally he comes across a beat up deck of cards in a drawer and decides to settle on a game of solitaire. 

“Jesus, no wonder he asks to stay over all the fucking time. I’d go mad here. I AM going mad here.” Rick moves the TV tray over to the couch, lights up a cigarette, and starts shuffling and dealing for himself. He barely got through half the game before becoming a combination of bored and frustrated, but luckily Cliff decided to come in with Brandy before Rick could toss the table.

“Hey, man. Finally up?”

“I’ve fucking been up for awhile.”

“Didn’t come out to say good morning?”

“No, you- you looked busy.”

“Ah. Well. I’m gonna rinse off real quick then go for a ride. Care to join me?”

“YES, Jesus! I mean- shit. I’m just-

“Bored?”

“Yeah.”

Cliff chuckles and heads towards the bathroom as Rick quickly cleans up his game. He didn’t care where they go, he just needed to not feel like a caged animal.

“How the fuck do you do it girl? Stay cooped up like this all day?” Rick asked Brandy, who seemed to be staring him down for the couch. “Oh, alright… you can have it.”

Brandy wags her tail and jumps up on the couch once Rick vacants it, giving a small ‘woof’ of thanks.

“Yeah, you’re a good girl, huh? Cliff got you trained really good. Shit.” Rick reaches down to scratch her behind the ears until he hears Cliff come up front.

“Ready to go?”

“M-more than ready, shit.” Rick practically bolts out the door and heads straight towards the passenger side of the car without looking back.

“Hey, Rick. The hell you going?”

Rick finally looked back at Cliff’s direction to see him by the motorbike, holding up a helmet in hand. 

“Oh, no. No, what the fuck, Cliff- you-you said we was goin’ riding-”

“Yeah. Riding on this. I need to make sure she’s working right.”

“And you wanna f-fucking test her out with me??”

“Could stay home with Brandy then.”

So his options were die on the road or die from boredom. Great.

“Fine. But you b-b-better know how to drive this thing.”

“Rick. I’m a stuntman. Do you really think you’d be in any better hands? Now here, put this on…” Cliff puts the helmet on Rick’s head and tightens it for him, making sure himself that it’s perfectly fit. He gets on the bike and instructs Rick how to get on as well. 

“Feeling secure now, partner?”

“Y-yeah, best I-I can.”

“Alright,” Cliff says with a grin as he starts the engine up. “Hang on tight.”

Of course Rick started clinging to him as hard as he could but Cliff made sure to take the ride heading towards the off property nice and slow so Rick could get use to sitting there. But once they exited the drive-in entrance, Cliff turned up the speed heading straight down the road.

“C-C-Cliff, CLIFF!!!”

Cliff doesn’t slow down until they come to their first traffic light, Rick’s head still completely buried into him, out of fear of the ride or hoping no one notices him, Cliff wasn’t sure.

“We could take the 101 and head towards Ventura.”

“No.

“How about the 405 to the 10 and go to Santa Monica Pier?”

“No fucking f-freeways, Cliff!”

“Well. Not much to do on this side of the hills unless you just wanna drive around Burbank like we usually do.”

“Fine, fine. Whatever gets this over with soon.”

It took awhile, but Rick finally got comfortable to the point where he knew Cliff wouldn’t put him in any danger he couldn’t control and was able to put some distance between him and Cliff’s back. This was definitely a new way to travel with Cliff he never considered before. There was no radio, only the soundtrack the streets provided. Not much conversation to be had except when they stopped at a light, but even then Rick didn’t have much to say that he thought could be expressed in an unpredictable short amount of time. And while he did feel exposed, there was also something rather freeing about not being caged in by four doors. But he was also just in a very cramped place so of course this would feel this exponentially more than usual.

“I’m hungry. Wanna stop at Bob’s?” Cliff asked when they came to a stop on Alameda. 

“Yeah. Yeah, s-sure.”

Cliff pulls into Bob’s Big Boy lot and finds a space for them in the back corner. It was late enough to have beaten the lunch crowd but still early to avoid the dinner rush. Rick slides off and removes his helmet, trying to fix his hair in the mirror. 

“Man, just leave it a mess. Might not recognize you in there if you do, if you want to be left alone.”

Rick always wants to be recognized, it’s just how he’s programmed. But he also now has the paranoia that ever since he and Cliff made it official, it’s like everyone could read his mind and would find out his dark secret if they saw him. So a mess he left it.

And to Rick’s half disappointment, half relief, no one noticed it was Jake Cahill himself in the back booth, not even the waitress when she came by a half dozen times before their food arrived. He settled on her being too young to have seen the show to make himself feel better.

“So how the fuck do you do it?” Rick asks Cliff out of the blue as he checks to make sure his steak sandwich is accurate so he didn’t have to call the waitress back over. 

Cliff was too busy adding a nice helping of Tabasco into his chili bowl to hear Rick’s question. “Hmm, what?”

“Live like a-a-a caged up dog. I mean, shit, Brandy really is caged up in there.”

“Yeah, that’s really my only problem with the place, my girl can’t really stretch her legs much.”

“Then go back to an apartment or s-something at least. Or come stay with- s-stay w-w-with-”

“Stay with you?”

“Yeah.”

Rick noticed Cliff seemed uneasy at the question, which made him regret even asking. Now Cliff was probably going to say something like they weren’t _that_ serious of a couple or Rick was the last person he’d want to live with.

“You wouldn’t want me as a roommate, man. You’ve seen what a slob I am.”

“So bring the goddamn trailer and stick it out front and live in it and Brandy can stay inside a real house like a-a normal dog should.”

“Oh, so that’s it. You really are just concerned about my girl.” Cliff grinned, knowing that’s not really what concerns Rick the most.

“No, I-I-I worry about you, goddamnit. Y-you’re a fucking war hero, you should be living it up.”

“I ain’t no hero, Rick. I deserve where I am.”

“How can you be so f-fucking content with where you are in life?”

“I’ve made peace with it, man. Life isn’t going to get any better for me. But you, you still got a shot to do something. So if you’d quit worrying about me and worry about yourself-”

“You think I don’t??”

“Then maybe you worry too much.”

Rick was getting frustrated, not at Cliff but at himself for not being able to communicate better or comprehend what Cliff is saying without feeling personally offended. He lets out a small growl and just takes it out on his sandwich, eating more aggressively than one should.

“Love you.”

Rick gagged and his eyes widened as he looked around to make sure no one heard that, but luckily the restaurant was still empty enough for no one to be in earshot. “You prick!”

“Worrywart.”

\---

Rick insisted on the way home that Cliff stop off at a bookstore so he could pick up some actual reading material that wasn’t just illustrations of men in tight pants. Cliff pretends to act offended before laughing it off. His carefree attitude was really starting to annoy Rick, but Rick knew deep down it was more because he was envious that he didn’t have the same demeanor

“You go in, I-I-I don’t wanna deal with people right now.”

“You sure? Anything you want in particular?”

“Western… anything with horses, shit I don’t care. Just something to entertain me.”

“Alright…”

As soon as Cliff slipped inside, Rick had a feeling he’d regret it, and that feeling pretty much was confirmed when Cliff came out beaming. The fucker could have started skipping he looked so pleased with himself.

“The fuck did you do?”

“I’ll give them to you when we get home. Trust me, you don’t wanna look at them out in the open.”

\---

It was worse than Rick imagined. Cliff waited until the were home and Rick was sitting down to dump the two books in Rick’s lap. _Gay on the Range_ with the open vest, bare chest cowboy with his buddy wrapped around his leg was actually the tamer of the two offenders; _My Purple Winter_ had a guy fully nude on a white horse with his onlooking also nude partner in the background with a stratigeically placed part of the bush over his privates. Rick didn’t want to give Cliff the satisfaction of being mad, because oh, while he very much was, he also couldn’t say he wasn’t at all intrigued. 

“You said Western or something with a horse. There’s a horse.”

“Yes, I-I-I see the horse. Thank you.”

“So you’re gonna read them?”

“Well what the fuck else am I gonna do around here??”

“That’s the spirit. Now I’m gonna finish up on the bike before it gets too dark and walk Brandy after, you have fun.” Cliff winks and lets Brandy out first before following behind her, leaving Rick to decide which poison to pick.

Cliff forgot to ask how Rick thought the bike performed but Rick would probably not be much help in that department. The ride was smooth for the most part even with the reluctant rider on back, and Cliff did a few quick solo circles just to be sure.

“What you think, girl? Think she’ll be fast enough to race next week at the track?”

Brandy stands there swaying back and forth a bit restless since Cliff did come outside with the leash and all, and she wasn’t expecting her walk to be delayed by this contraption.

“Alright, I was teasing ya by mistake, my bad. I don’t think there’s anything to do right now so I’ll put her away.”

Brandy’s tail wagged faster as she watched Cliff back up the bike closer to the trailer and come and leash her up, pull a cigarette out of the pack in his jacket pocket and light it up before leading her around the fence towards the drive-in entrance.

“Do you think Rick would come if I asked him to watch me race? Or does he have more important shit to do…” Cliff realized he was asking himself more than Brandy, and he doubted Rick would want to waste his day watching a bunch of guys speed around in circles while he sits there pretending to not be involved with one of the riders. Guess it couldn’t hurt to ask.

Cliff takes Brandy down to the first intersection along the road before turning back. The occasional car that passed them all turned left into the drive-in with it’s glowing marquee highlighting _2001: A Space Odyssey_ with it’s showtime in about half an hour. Cliff had no clue what it was about but since he always caught every flick that came through perched on top of his trailer, he thought maybe he and Rick could check it out later. 

“Alright, darlin’. Let’s get you dinner,” Cliff says as they approach the trailer door. He unhooks her and opens the door for her to head in first, noticing she immediately headed towards the couch where Rick was. Either she wants him off again or she’s taken a liking to him, the latter thought making him smile at Brandy accepting Rick as pack. But then he heard her whining.

“N-no, get away, Brandy. Git!”

“Hey, hey, what’s wrong partner? She ain’t doing anything.” Cliff finally steps inside and sees it wasn’t anything Brandy did, just that Rick had the sign that he has obviously been crying as he lied on the couch, _My Purple Winter_ open flat on his chest.

“Uh. Did the horse die or somethin’?”

Rick sniffs and wipes his nose on his sleeve. “No, I-I-I only got ten pages in…”

“And?”

“Nothing…”

“Don’t look like nothing.”

“Leave me a-alone, Cliff, alright?”

Cliff bites his lip and decides it would just be for the best to let Rick ride out his episode. Guess there won’t be any movie watching tonight.

“Alright. But if you wanna talk, I’m here.” 

Rick didn’t reply so Cliff just turned his attention to a worried looking Brandy who still thought she was to blame for Rick’s misery. He gets her up on the chair as he gets her down a couple cans of racoon flavor, noticing she’d occasionally turn around to see how Rick was holding up. Cliff hated having to whistle everytime she did, but no exceptions to her training. 

“You hungry, Rick?”

“No.”

They ate late enough in the afternoon for Cliff to pass it off as Rick was being truthful, but he opened up himself a can of SpaghettiOs to heat up for himself so Brandy still knew she had to wait until the alpha got his meal done first. He took the pot over to the chair when he was done, clicked to Brandy that she could go ahead, and turned his attention back to Rick to observe him.

“What?”

“Just making sure you’re alright, man. That’s all.”

Rick grumbles and just slaps the book off his chest so he could roll over and bury himself into the back of the couch so Cliff couldn’t see his face. Cliff waited a minute before setting the pot down so he could grab the book and start reading what got Rick so upset. It didn’t take long for it to click.

“That’s not why you’re like this, man.”

“I-it makes perfect fucking sense! My dad was an asshole and my mom was the only one who cared about me.”

“That doesn’t make you queer. Both my parents were assholes.”

“Yeah, and you like to fuck girls, too. Y-you’re just proving my point.”

Cliff has heard this theory before. In fact, he’s had to explain this to Rick already but Rick wasn’t as emotional then as he was now. And the main character starting off his story going into an explanation for several pages on how his mother smothering him to death with love and his father being a prick are the reasons he was homo weren’t helping his case.

“Look, man. I knew a guy in the war. Biggest homo I’ve ever met and he got along with both parents as a kid. So I still say it’s a bunch of bullshit.”

“But what if it’s t-true? What if I could have been n-n-normal…”

“Well. Then you wouldn’t have me as an amazing boyfriend.”

Rick snorts and turns his head around just enough to see Cliff with one eye. “You think you’re fucking amazing, huh?”

“I do.”

“I guess you can be…. at times.”

“Not all the time?”

“Nah.”

“Well shit, better step up my game then.”

“I was just k-kidding…”

“I know.”

Rick finally felt himself crack a small smile. He’d be lying if he said Cliff wasn’t the kindest person towards him since his mother, and he always had trouble telling Cliff how much he appreciated it. 

“Did you wanna catch the movie playing next door? Some space movie, I guess.”

“Maybe tomorrow. I’m tired.”

“All that sitting on your ass behind me really wore you out, huh?”

“Oh sh-shut up.”

Cliff finished his dinner and instead of just tossing it in the sink to deal with later, he cleaned out the pot and put it away under Rick’s watchful eye. And for good measure he cleaned out Brandy’s dish since he’s sure Rick would eventually comment on that as well.

“Hey, Cliff. Could you grab a couple blankets? It’s chilly out here.”

“Yeah, sorry I don’t got a furnace or anything.” Cliff grabs the blankets and comes back, tossing them on Rick’s face.

“Thanks...ass,” Rick mumbles as he pulls them off and correctly throws them over this body. “Much better.”

Cliff just shakes his head and flops back in his chair, checking his watch at the time. He wasn’t use to entertaining guests here and while time usually flew by with Rick when they were out, it seemed to slow down twice the speed being stuck here.

“So… did they tell you when they’ll let you know about the part?”

“Hmm.. yeah they said maybe they’ll call me in a couple days an-” Rick’s eyes suddenly widen as he sprang up in a complete look of panic. “SHIT. I g-g-gave them my house number, I f-forgot to t-tell them I’m not home.”

“So call them and tell them.”

Rick fumbled around for his wallet to try to get the business card to call as Cliff wrote his home number for Rick to give. But Cliff knew the odds of anyone still there were slim, so he decided to get a head start on damage control and go heat up some water for hot chocolate.

After trying three times, Rick finally gave up hoping they’d be in for the rest of the night, slamming the phone down and pulling at his hair in frustration. “Wh-what if they decided t-today and I didn’t answer and-and they f-fucking gave it to the next person??”

“If they really wanted you, they’d wait. Just call first thing in the mornin’, I’m sure they’ll understand.”

“But what if they-”

“Rick.”

Rick stopped; Cliff rarely used a stern tone of voice with him, but when he did it’s usually because he’s dead serious. And if Cliff was so sure that it would be all right, he’d trust him.

“S-sorry...I’ll try in the morning.”

“Alright. Now would you like your hot chocolate plain or with a shot?”

\---

Cliff cracked an eye open when the sound of dozens of cars firing up their engines indicated the movie was over and it was time to head home. He had to carefully move his arm up and behind Rick dozing on his shoulder to check the time, seeing it was nearly ten.

“Woah… been out longer than I thought.”

Rick’s hot chocolate with a shot of tequila quickly turned into tequila tinted with hot chocolate as he continuously refilled his mug. It was moments like these Cliff wondered if he should just become a therapist as he must have spent at least an hour listening to Rick talk about everything wrong with his life and again, his relationship with his parents, until his speech started slurring and eventually wore himself out. Cliff was too lazy to move from holding Rick through the whole ordeal that when Rick finally passed out, Cliff wasn’t too far behind. But now he could feel himself starting to cramp up and it was probably best they both be getting to bed.

“Hey man… let’s get you to bed,” Cliff mumbles as he shakes Rick gently at first then gradually harder until Rick finally wakes.

“Hmm wha?”

“Let’s get you to bed.”

Rick stares at him for a bit to process what he’s saying before offering a counter. “No offense, buddy, but the fucking couch is more comfortable than that piece of shit you call a bed.”

“I mean, you ain’t wrong.”

“Then why do you even have a b-bed?”

“Huh… I don’t know, guess an attempt to remain somewhat civilized, I guess.”

Rick just snorts and fumbles around looking for the blankets so he can start settling in. “Could you get my pillow?”

“Yessir,” Cliff chuckles as he feels Rick start to push his legs in behind him as he lies down, making it clear this wasn’t a two person set up. Cliff goes and grabs the pillow and a couple extra blankets just in case. “Anything else?”

“Nah, nah. I’m good.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah.”

“Really sure?”

“Jesus, Cliff. I-I’m not that d-demaning.”

“Heh, alright. Night, darlin’,” Cliff says with a grin before leaning down to give Rick a quick kiss before he could protest.

“N-n-night…” Rick replied, turning back over to bury into the couch so Cliff couldn’t see him blush. 

Cliff took Brandy out for her last bathroom trip for the night, remade the cot to his liking, and then took a quick shower. When he got out, he saw that Brandy had decided to settle in front of the couch where Rick was already snoring.

“Gonna keep an eye on him for me, girl?”

Only Brandy’s eyes moved to look at Cliff in reply to let him know she heard him before she too closed them and drifted off.

Cliff half smirks to himself as he goes to settle in as well in the back of the trailer.

“Hey, it could be worse. She could always hate him.”


	3. Day 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Man, I hate going this long between updates but between starting retail work right as LA county became pretty much the new epicenter of the pandemic, my nurse sister giving the grim updates, and trying to keep several people's mental health afloat including my own... it's been exhausting trying to even sit down to write. I hope everyone is doing as well as you can be. <3

Rick slowly awoke the next morning to the sounds and smell of what he assumed to be Cliff working in the kitchen. He himself was still facing the back of the couch and was now suddenly regretting his drama of wanting to sleep there once he realized how stiff he was; the one advantage the cot had was he could actually spread out all the way instead of trying to cram his 6ft frame into the shortened space.

“You alright there, partner? Kinda groaning over there.”

“I-I’m fine… j-just fine…”

“Well I can give up my bed again tonight if you want.”

Rick didn’t want to give Cliff that satisfaction that he was right but he also wasn’t sure at the moment if he could move so he just tried to change the subject. ‘What’s that smell?”

“Egg and bacon bagel sandwich. Easy on the pepper for you, heavy for me.”

“Who the fuck makes bagel sandwiches??”

“Gotta get creative when you don’t have the luxury of a five star kitchen. Now you gonna get up or am I gonna have to roll ya over?”

It took Rick a couple tries but was eventually able to sit up, lips pressed tight together to keep the groans in. Cliff sets down a plate with Rick’s sandwich and a cup of coffee before going to work on his, the extra scent of pepper quickly filling the small space.

“Not bad for what it is… I guess,” Rick mumbles.

“Would you like to cook dinner tonight?”

“Thought we could go out.”

“Hey man, I bought enough spaghetti and meatballs and garlic bread for four people, don’t make me live off it by myself for a week.”

“You… y-you were gonna m-make me dinner?”

“Well shit, man. I’m your host. I ain’t got the best equipment or the best skills but I can at least boil water. Dinner and a movie after, sounds like a night. Because like you’ve made clear, there really ain’t much to do around here.”

Rick looked down at his half eaten bagel sandwich, wondering how he could continue to be such a complainer when Cliff had initially warned him about staying here and was still trying to go about making his stay tolerable.

“I never offer to cook for you…”

“Well no offence but you don’t even cook for yourself it seems.”

“Yeah, th-that’s fair.”

“No wonder you don’t have a pile up of dirty dishes in your sink.”

Rick scoffs as he works on finishing his bagel, watching as Cliff finishes assembling his and right away puts the pan in the sink to soak. “What time is it?”

“Just after nine.”

“And you’ve been up since…?”

“Five.”

“Jesus.”

“Best time to work out.”

Rick almost let something slip on how that’s dumb because then he couldn’t watch, but decided to quickly change the subject instead. “I-I-I gotta call the studio.”

“Number is still by the phone.”

“Th-thanks.” Rick picked up and dialed, worried he was too late as the phone kept ringing. “No one is an- hello, yes? Hi! This is Rick Dalton, the actor…”

Cliff shakes his head knowing Rick is about to get super flustered on the line and just hopes it doesn’t end with them saying they already gave the part to someone else.

“Anyways, I-I forgot to mention at the audition that I’m staying at my bo- MY-MY f-f-f-friend’s place and I-I-I didn’t give you the n-number in case you c-c-couldn’t reach me....”

Even Cliff’s eyes widened at that almost slip up. Now he really hoped this call wouldn’t end in tragedy.

“A-a-alright. Thank you so m-much. Bye.” Rick accidentally slams the phone down, looking like he had just ran a marathon. “Shit, I-I-I almost said you were my-”

“Yeah, but you didn’t. So what news?”

“Said they're gonna make their decision today, I should know by five.”

“So lemme guess, you’re gonna stay by the phone all day?

“You’re fucking goddamn right I am!”

“At least you got reading material.”

Rick wasn’t feeling too keen on picking the books up again for the time being, even though he told Cliff to get them for the purpose of having something to do. “Well what were you planning to do today?”

“Oh, me? Well thought maybe today would be a good day to give Brandy a bath if we ain’t got anywhere to be. And you could give me a hand.”

“Why not take her to the groomers and have her spiffed up all nice?”

“Nah, she don’t need any fancy shmancy treatment. And besides, I gotta make sure she’s treated right and not given a half-assed job.”

Rick thought it would be a lot easier to do it his way, and given the way Cliff was going about it, a lot less complicated. Cliff didn’t have anything to put Brandy in so he just set up a large blue tarp outside to keep the ground from getting muddy. He didn’t have a hose so he filled a few large pots and buckets with water and set them outside in direct sunlight to warm up. At least he actually had some dog shampoo on hand instead of having to rely on dish soap or some shit.

“Cliff! This is fucking ridiculous. Y-you coulda been on your way home by now from the groomers.”

“Ah, don’t you worry your pretty head ‘bout it. I’m used to doing it this way,” Cliff says with a grin as he slips out of his shirt and jeans and into what Rick normally would see Cliff wear over at his pool and throws his aviator shades on. “Now you gonna come out and help or stay in here?”

“In here, where I c-can’t get w-wet.”

Cliff shrugs and ushers Brandy outside and into position using his series of clicks. Rick didn’t know why Cliff would think he’d be of any help when the dog was following all commands without question. Deciding he didn’t really like attempting to read again and that what was going on outside would be far more entertaining to look at than anything on television, Rick carefully pulls the phone over towards the door as far as the cord would allow him to. He was pleased to see that if it ringed, he’d at least be able to reach over and grab it once he decided he was going to leave the door open and sit on the trailer’s steps. Rick grabs a couple of beers from the fridge before settling down in the doorway, enjoying the scene.

“Hey, man. You’re gonna let bugs in.”

“I ain’t see any fucking bugs and I want to watch.”

“I take it it’s not Brandy you wanna watch, huh?” Cliff says with a wink as he dunks a wash towel into one of the water buckets.

“Shit… figured me out, huh?” Rick rolls his eyes as he cracks one of the cans open, taking a long enough sip for the can to block out his vision of Cliff, something Cliff immediately took advantage of.

“FUCKING SHIT, you FUCK!!!” Rick nearly fell off the steps as a spray of water whipped him across the chest, which in turn caused him to spill beer onto his face. He could hear Cliff howling with laughter in the background as Rick tried to wipe his face clean with his sleeve. “What in the fucking hell was that shit for, huh??”

“Well now that you’re already wet, you might as well come help me. Or you could always join Brandy on the tarp and I’ll wash you down.”

Rick huffs as he gets up to go inside and wash his face off in the sink. He decides he should probably wash the shirt sleeve while he’s at it and let’s it soak as he heads in back to a grab a new shirt. 

“Wait, that f-fucker is just gonna get me wet again. Well…” Rick switches from his bag to Cliff’s closet, pulling out Cliff’s yellow Hawaiian shirt and slips it on as is before heading back to the door. 

Cliff was already in the middle of soaping Brandy up when he catches a glimpse of Rick. “Huh. Ran out of clothes, partner?”

“Nah, j-just didn’t feel like changing again when you’re… you’re just g-gonna fucking get me w-w-wet again.” 

“Is that how little you think of me?”

“Then fucking prove me wrong.”

“Easy to do if you’re just gonna stay inside like that.” Cliff smirked knowing he just issued a challenge Rick wouldn’t be able to refused; any way to prove Cliff he’s right would outweigh Rick’s desire to not lift a finger. And with that, Rick was already making his way down the steps.

“So what am I suppose to fucking do?”

“Well we just gotta rinse her now since you missed most of the fun. Just grab a bowl and start pouring water over her.”

Cliff honestly didn’t really need the help seeing as he had Brandy well trained enough to make bath time a one person’s job. But he knew he needed to keep Rick’s mind off simply just waiting for a call and Brandy was still behaving when Rick awkwardly dumped the water on her instead of just slowly pouring it down her back.

“Just make sure all the shampoo is out.”

“Well obviously, that’s what I’m fucking doing!”

Cliff couldn’t help but think this was going to be a long afternoon if Rick was gonna be on edge all day. Once he sees Brandy is as shampoo free as she’s going to be, he goes to grab the towel he had hung over his motorbike handle, waits for her to shake the excess water off, and starts rubbing her dry. “Aww, who’s my pretty clean girl, huh? You are, yeah. You are. You think Rick should have a turn now, huh?”

“The fuck? Fuck no.”

“You’d probably like it more than the shower.”

“I- no, what the f-fuck, Cliff? The hell you think all these people will think if they saw you w-washing me like th-that, huh?”

Cliff just smiles at him before picking Brandy up and carrying her to the trailer so she wouldn’t get her paws all dirty heading back. “Last chance before I clean up.”

“No. Fucking hell Cliff, no.”

\---

Cliff wasn’t able to keep Rick from planting himself on the couch by the phone all afternoon. Since he still wanted to take Rick to the movie later, he decided around mid-afternoon to get started on dinner while Rick nervously sat chain-smoking for what seemed like several hours. 

“You gonna need me to run and buy you another pack at this rate?”

“No, I-I-I should be good. I stocked up before coming here.”

“Huh. Because you knew living with me would be stressful or-?”

“Listen, I knew that f-fucking audition was gonna be hell, alright? Nothing to do with you. But the situation ain’t helping either.”

“Well if all goes well you should be back in your place by tomorrow.”

“When has anything ever gone fucking well for me, huh?”

“Oh I don’t know. Not many people can say they were on a successful television show. That’s something.”

Rick leans back against the couch, cigarette precariously dangling from his lips as he rubs his face knowing he can’t really argue back about that. He was just mentally drained of never knowing where his career was going to be day to day, or if he could even afford to maintain his lifestyle. Or hell, maintain Cliff.

“You know, you depend on me getting this j-job just as much as I-I d-do.”

“Oh I’m quite well aware, thanks. Been aware for awhile now.”

_Of course he his._

“How big do you like your balls?”

“... Huh? The fuck-”

“Meatballs, man. Meatballs. How big do you like ‘em.”

“Oh, shit, I don’t f-fucking care. It’s all the same in the end.”

“Well you ain’t wrong.”

Rick wasn’t expecting Cliff’s cooking to be anything extraordinary compared to the fine dining Italian places he’s been to. And as he watched Cliff work, the only thing he did that seemed of any real technique was salt the water. Otherwise, this meal seemed to be as basic as a bowl of spaghetti and meatballs with a side of garlic bread could get. But as long as it was edible and not full of Tabasco, Rick would survive.

Suddenly the sharp ‘RIIIIIING!’ of the phone broke through his thoughts as Rick was brought back to the reality of why he was stressing out in the first place. “Oh, shit. I-I-I think it’s th-them.”

“Better answer it then.”

Cliff watched Rick nervously reach over to grab it and waited until he heard that it was indeed the studio on the other line before tuning out the conversation as best he could to focus on finishing dinner in case Rick was going to need it immediately if the call went south. The spaghetti was already done and divided into a couple bowls, the jar of sauce he bought was gently heating in another pot while he occasionally turned the meatballs until he made sure they were cooked on all sides. Cliff realized he forgot to get parmesan cheese-

“WE DID IT!”

“We?”

“Well I guess I mean ‘we’ as in it’s a-a role you can get s-stunt work for.”

“Unless Randy is there…”

“Well, shit. Fucking better not be. Otherwise I guess it’s ‘we’ as in I work and pay you to keep this shithole you live in afloat another couple months.”

Cliff didn’t reply. He wasn’t mad that Rick called his place a ‘shithole’ because he can’t argue with the truth. No, he was mad at the situations he kept making worse for himself to the point he basically couldn’t survive without Rick like he was a damn parasite. He didn’t want to think about what would happen if Rick suddenly parted ways with him; Rick might think Cliff was all sunshine optimism in bleak situations but deep down, Cliff was just as worried about his future as Rick was.

“Dinner’s ready.”

“I’m guessing you still eat your fancy dinners in your chair.”

“I never eat fancy. Even if I’m doing this meal it’s more like I just cook the spaghetti and dump sauce straight from the jar onto it. But yeah, couch and tv tray for you then.” Cliff pulls the tray in front of Rick and sets down the bowl and plate of garlic bread, as well as a glass of water and a beer can. “Sorry I didn’t have a wine to pair it with. Bon appetit.”

“It’s f-fine. Th-thank you.”

Cliff nods and turns back to the kitchen, noticing Brandy sitting in the corner waiting her turn, licking her chops as she sees Rick take a bite of a meatball.

“Hey, just because he’s getting fed first doesn’t mean he’s alpha, alright? That’s still me. And it’s not your dinner time yet, I’ll feed you before the movie.”

“Aww, Cliff. Just give her one meatball.”

Cliff thinks on it, grabbing one of the small ones still in the pan and gives it to Rick. “Alright. You feed her.”

“Huh? Why me?”

“Trust me. Just call her over and say her name and then ‘sit’.”

“Shit, I h-had a dog as a kid, ya d-don’t need to tell me what to do. Brandy, come here. I got a treat for you.”

Brandy calmly walks over and sits in front of Rick before he even gives the command to sit, eyes looking up at the meatball longingly as she shifts back and forth in anticipation. 

“Don’t tease her, man. Or she might grab more than just the ball.”

Rick’s eyes widened and he kinda just tossed the meatball in the air instead of handing it to her, watching Brandy catch it perfectly. “G-good g-girl.”

“Now give her some ear scratches.”

Rick waits until she’s done eating before going in to do so, Brandy leaning into his hand showing Rick how much she enjoyed it. Rick felt more proud of himself at that moment than he had getting off the phone with the studio.

“I’m glad she likes you, man. If she didn’t, well…”

“Well what?”

“You’d probably be sleeping on the roof the whole time.”

\---

Rick didn’t think much of it when Cliff made a comment about sleeping on the roof earlier. Nor did he think he’d find himself later looking up at the ladder on the side of the trailer to head up on top.

“Cliff, c-can’t we just t-take the damn car?”

“Trust me, man. This is more intimate this way. Who wants other people in other cars looking at us?”

“What about people in these other fucking trailers?”

“Then they’ll just see two dudes up on top watching a movie, and they know I only got one chair up there so-”

“Wait, you actually got a-a fucking chair up there?”

“What, you think I sit up there one or twice a week without any kind of comfort? Now go on, get up there so I can start handing you stuff.”

Rick couldn’t remember the last time he climbed something like this. The journey up seemed so daunting even though it wasn’t nearly as tall as his house, which he did climb in the past before Cliff became his full service handyman.

“Need me to push you up?”

“Shit, no, I’m going. Geeze…” Rick grumbled as he climbed the ladder, irrationally worried the whole trailer would topple onto him but he made it in one piece. He looked around and saw Cliff had a little set up with a chair and light, giving the impression to Rick that this really was something Cliff often did. 

“You can have the chair.”

“Thought you were the k-king of the castle or some shit excuse?”

“Well Brandy ain’t around and I’m not gonna listen to you complain all night about sitting on the roof. Now come grab this stuff so I can get back to the popcorn.”

Cliff managed to toss a couple blankets and some bags of candy up to Rick without needing to climb, but Cliff wasn’t going to risk tossing the six-pack and getting the cans all shook up. He went up far enough for Rick to comfortably grab them before sliding back down and heading back inside. Meanwhile, Rick decided to get as comfortable as he could in this worn out lawn chair and completely covers himself from his shoulders down in blankets. 

“My f-fucking ass is gonna hurt sitting here for hours, shit. Should have just gone in the car…” Rick mumbles to himself. But he had to say, the view wasn’t horrible all considering and he could hear the ads encouraging patrons to pick up snacks before showtime just fine. And sure, he was use to spending his nights out in a pool on his back getting wasted so how was this much different in reality?

About ten minutes later he heard the door open again and Cliff come climbing up the ladder, the handle of the Jiffy Pop was between his teeth and made the enormous spaceship looking popcorn container seem to float above his shoulder. Cliff settles down in front of the lawn chair between Rick’s legs, pulls the Jiffy Pop out of his mouth and slices the top open with a knife.

“Get it while it’s hot and fresh,” Cliff says with a smile as he turns around as far as he can, shaking the popcorn spaceship at Rick.

“Th-thanks.” Rick takes just a couple pieces at a time so his fingers don’t burn off as he hands Cliff a beer and then cracks one open for himself. “So any fucking clue wh-what this movie is a-about?”

“I’m guessing space seeing as ‘space oddity’ was in the title. Or was it ‘odyssey’...”

Well as far as Cliff was concerned just a couple minutes into it it might as well have been ‘oddity’ because Rick just could not leave one important thing alone-

“Alright, I-I-I-I honestly can’t f-fucking tell. They using fucking real monkeys there or they some damn actors in m-m-monkey s-suits?”

“Suits, man. They can’t move like that. You know how long training would take?”

“Shit. And I thought being in ‘Salty’ wa-was bad.”

“Your career won’t reach monkey suit level desperation. Me on the other hand…”

“Nah, ain’t letting you sink that fucking low.”

“How’d you know I ain’t one of them? Can’t see their faces.”

“Because you’d smell like-like a man stuck in a monkey suit, not, uh, how you currently d-do.”

“Fine, I wasn’t in this.”

“Good, this is f-fucking trash so far anyways.”

-

“Cliff, could you open the fucking door?? I really need to take a-a fucking piss.”

“I’m sorry, Rick. I’m afraid I can’t do that,” Cliff said in the most monotone voice and deadpan expression on his face as he watched Rick tug at the trailer door.

“You c-cut that fucking HAL bullshit out, Jesus Christ! That shit ain’t right.”

Cliff kept staring expressionless right before the moment he knew Rick was gonna lose it and cracked his trademark smile. “What… did he scare you?”

“N-no but if-if we were alone up there and that fucker cut your life support off-“

“Right, fair. I sure as hell wouldn’t want to be alone up there.” Cliff grabs his key and unlocks the door, making sure to back Brandy up enough so Rick could have a clear shot at the bathroom as soon as he got in. Cliff was surprised to hear the shower turn on a few minutes later so he decided to excuse himself and take Brandy for a walk.”

“Hey, pretty girl. Sorry to leave you alone all night,” Cliff says as he leashes her up and heads back outside. “Between you and me, I think Rick got scared during the movie. He squeezed my hand and all a couple times throughout- although not as bad as right near the beginning when this tiger appeared out of nowhere and he nearly slapped the popcorn tin all over me and he screamed, heh. Shiiiit, he’s adorable when he gets like that. And… and now I feel weird telling all this to a dog.”

“Arf!”

-

Cliff came back twenty minutes later hoping it was enough time for Rick to do whatever the hell he had to after showering. To Cliff’s surprise, the trailer lights were already out and he found Rick already settled in the cot tonight. 

“Uh, Rick? You alright?”

“Yeah.”

Huh. Rick didn’t seem all that tired or sick earlier, nor did his reply sound like either of those. Maybe the HAL impression pushed him too far?

“Well... goodnight then.”

“Night.”

Cliff actually wasn’t feeling tired, and since he didn’t want to bother Rick with any lights he decided to just head right back outside up on top of the trailer again. The drive-in had already shut down its lights for the evening, and although LA’s light pollution as a whole still made it hard to see the stars clearly, it was still more than he was used to seeing. 

_Rick’s got floating in his pool at night, I got sitting on this hunk of metal. But hey, at least we still end up seeing the same night sky._


	4. Going Home

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short chapter to wrap it up since Rick's gotta move back. Thanks for sticking with me on slowly getting this out.

Cliff sat in the back of the tavern, eyes surveying the scene. His fellow soldiers were laughing and singing, spirits so high you’d think the war was over. But these nights were so rare that even the smallest reprieves from the bloodshed outside felt like a small victory.

However, Cliff knew all too well that you could never let your guard down for even a second. And just like before, the ‘krauts came busting in without any warning and began firing on the patrons. And once again, Cliff found himself weaponless, unable to move. Unable to help his brothers. Unable to-

_CRASH_

Cliff bolted up from the couch as if whatever invisible force holding him back suddenly let go of him, sending him flying and wild eyed in panic. The tavern was gone; he was back in the trailer. He looks over towards the kitchen where he hears a string of cussing, his breathing still slightly labored.

“Goddamnit, d-droped the fucking bacon pan, shit.”

Rick. That’s right, Rick was still here. But up in the morning before him? Cliff tried to trace back last night’s events, including staying up well past midnight star gazing alone on the roof once Rick decided to retire for the evening. And when he got back in, he saw the blankets from the movie viewing were still on the couch so he decided to just settle in there instead of waking Rick in back to remake the bed on the floor.

“Cliff? Y-you alright, buddy?”

It took Cliff a moment to realize he still had the same intense look on his face when he woke. It was the same look he always had when he had that nightmare when he couldn’t save his brothers and never could no matter how many times he re-lived it.

“Yeah. I’m fine.”

“You sure? You don’t look it.”

“I’m fine.”

Rick knew all too well that meant he wasn’t, but Cliff always dropped prodding him when it got too much so he could only think to give the same courtesy. “Well, if you wish, y-y-you’re always free to tell me.”

“Yeah. ‘course.”

“Yeah.”

It took a moment for Rick to remember he had to clean up the bacon off the ground as that was no longer any good. He sees Brandy sitting behind the counter, tail waggin’, as if to alert him that she was the clean up expert just waiting on his call.

“Hey, Cliff. Can Brandy do clean up?”

“Yeah.”

Rick wasn’t as great at making the clicking sound that Cliff could although he still gave it a whirl, followed by, “Alright, Brandy. Bacon is all yours.” 

Brandy didn’t need to be told twice.

“So why you up so early, partner?”

“Well, y-you uh, called me out yesterday on cookin’ and since if all goes well, I should be going home today so, uh, thought I’d surprise you with breakfast before you got up, hence why I tried to get the fuck to bed early..”

“Breakfast?”

“Yeah, uh, actually cook the fucking breakfast, not just fill you a bowl of cereal or spread some goddamn cream cheese on a bagel and call it a day. Wanted to give you an honest to god breakfast. But that was the fucking end of the bacon so guess it’s just eggs now.”

“That’s fine.”

“You sure you’re alright?”

“Rick.” 

Cliff looked to meet Rick’s eyes, which were full of a concern for him he rarely got out of Rick. Guess it was possible for him to not be a self-centered bastard. And maybe it was possible for him to not be the stoic one all the time.

“Had a dream again that I get often. That’s all.”

“Dream or nightmare?”

“Heh. Latter. Always the same result. Can never change it.”

“Sounds like hell.”

“Yeah. But the positive thing is I only had to experience it for real once. Now enough about my shit, let’s see how those eggs taste.”

\---

Turns out Rick wasn’t as helpless a cook as Cliff thought he was, which made sense since Rick would have to survive on something before Cliff took over managing Rick’s life. Rick even managed to nail the “shit-ton” amount of pepper he liked.

The call from the termite company came just a little after nine alerting them that the house was ready. Cliff offered to clean up breakfast while Rick packed his things, Brandy following Rick to the back once she knew there would be no more scraps to lick up on Cliff’s end.

“Well, girl. Looks like I’ll be out of your hair today. Bet you’ll enjoy having more room again.”

Brandy gave a small whine as she watched Rick stuff his clothes and other belongings back into his bag. 

“What’s that for, you gonna miss me?”

“Arf!”

“Well don’t tell Cliff but…” Rick gets down to her level, stroking her big head and scratching behind her ears. “...I’m gonna fucking miss you as well. You’ve definitely been the better company.”

“I heard that.”

“You know I’m joking!”

“Uh huh.”

Rick grins freely, knowing Cliff can’t see that. “You’re more than welcome to come visit me, Brandy. Might enjoy actually being able to move in a proper home.”

“You trying to bribe my girl with a better life or something?” Cliff says playfully as he appears in the doorframe and casually leans against it. “Hey, why don’t you come walk with us around the premises? I got someone I want you to meet so let’s see if he’s in.”

\---

Cliff struck out on finding the guy he was so eager for Rick to see when they first went to check the office, so he settled on giving Rick a tour of the place when the sun is up before the magic begins.

“I help Frank out now and then if he needs it. It’s why he doesn’t chase me off the roof if he catches me stealing a view.”

“Y-you didn’t tell me you worked here.”

“Not work-work, man. Mostly handiwork fixing shit up so he doesn’t have to hire someone else. Sometimes he’ll ask to take a peek at his car. I don’t mind. Gives me something to do when I’m not catering to you.”

“You make me sound like a-a fucking pain in your ass.”

Cliff just grins as he catches someone walking in the distance towards the office. “Oh hey, there he is. Come on. He’d love to meet a star.”

Rick sighed and followed; He didn’t know how the hell this would go seeing as he didn’t have that many great movies under his belt and a guy working a drive-in probably wasn’t really catching anything on television much.

“Frank! Hey, look who I got here. Rick Dalton, the guy I stunt for.”

If Cliff had to introduce him as ‘the guy I stunt for’, Rick knew this Frank person probably has no clue who he is.

“Well howdy, Mr. Dalton.” Frank was an older looking sort so maybe he was aware of him. “Cliff, you should have told me you’d be bringing him by. My grandkids would have loved to meet him.”

“Huh?” Rick didn’t realize he said his thought allowed; nothing he made was ever appropriate for kids. Well, except for-

“They love that sea otter movie you were in, Mr. Dalton. Whenever they pop by the drive-in they always ask if I still got it on hand.”

“Oh…” Well, this interaction turned out to be both what he thought it would be and not at all. “Well, y-y-you tell them ol’ Jeb says ‘hi’, alright?”

“Actually, I got a camera on me, if you don’t mind taking a picture with me?”

“Yeah, no problem.” Rick forced himself to smile as genuine as possible as Cliff snapped the camera for them, shook hands with Frank while sprouting the usual ‘it’s been a pleasure’ before he followed Cliff back to the trailer.

“Did you f-fucking know? That his damn grandkids actually fucking like that piece of shit?”

“He’s mentioned it, yeah.”

“That's why you wanted me to meet him? Remind me of that fucking d-disaster that’s all but derailed my career??”

Usually Rick would expect Cliff to respond with his usually smug grin, but there was nothing of the sort. If anything, he looked dead serious.

“Rick. Why do you keep trying to make movies, or hell, continue to try to book guest spots?”

Rick had to think about it for a moment. Obviously, he needed to work. That’s really the whole fucking reason he takes the guest spots. The movies, however…

“I don’t wanna be forgotten, Cliff. Y-you have more immortality as a film star than as a f-fucking TV cowboy. I don’t wanna be that person only your dad remembers and- oh. Shit.”

Now Cliff looked smug. “Yeah, and now a whole new generation has been exposed to ya.”

“That film was sh-shit. I was shit. The critics fucking tore me a-apart.”

“I doubt kids give a shit about the opinions of critics.”

“And when they see that movie when they are older and think ‘Wow, I can’t believe I liked this fucking piece of shit’ that guy playing Jeb is horrible.”

“Nostalgia is a powerful thing, man. Sometimes it’s enough to overlook the flaws.”

Rick hated that word, fucking ‘nostalgia’. It was a reminder that he gained his fame by playing the way things were last century, and now it just reminded he was a relic of the past in this fucking hippie era. 

“I feel like a man out of time, Cliff.”

“Out of time like you’re dying?”

Rick growled as he realized he was in desperate need of a new cigarette after leaving Frank’s office and pulls his pack out of his pocket to light one up. “No, I-I feel like I don’t know where I fucking belong, like I’m living in the wrong time period. I’ve pretended for too long what Western living is like, and then I wake up e-each morning now to find dirty fucking hippies on the corner preaching the screw ball shit, telling soldiers like yourself off-”

“Rick.”

“I’m just tired, Cliff.” Rick’s face scrunches up, his eyes clearly on the verge of breaking the dam open as he takes a quick drag of his cigarette to try to bottle it up.

“Hey man, you know what would do you some good? If I take you out of the shithole back to your place.”

“Y-yeah, sure. T-take me home now, Cliff.”

\---

It was actually Rick who insisted Brandy ride along with them. Cliff questioned if it really was just Rick’s attempt to make her see his place and want to stay with Rick, which would of course mean Cliff would have to follow as well.

“Really, you didn’t get sick of me? Like shit, I don’t remember when we last spent so much time together in one go.”

“Nah, nah. I-I can’t ever get sick of you, Cliff.”

“Well nice to know at least one person doesn’t.”

Cliff pulls into the driveway and lets Rick take Brandy in to show her around while he comes up the rear with Rick’s luggage.

“See, girl. Ain’t this much nicer? Hell, I’d let you sleep on the couch, this one needs to be f-fucking replaced an-anyways. And yeah, the pool hogs most of the fucking backyard but I still at least got a yard.”

“The hell you talking about, man? She’s got more room to run at the trailer if, you know, none of the other residents are up and looking for an excuse to tattle on her.”

Cliff watched as Rick excitedly continued to give Brandy a tour out back as he heads to the bedroom to sort Rick’s laundry, putting away what wasn’t used and tossing the rest in his hamper in the bathroom. Rick did occasionally from time to time mention there was plenty of room for Cliff’s clothes in the dresser. Hell, Cliff could put all his possessions in the guest room Rick barely used and he still probably wouldn’t look like he lived there if the door was kept shut.

“Too much space, man. I wouldn’t know how to fill a whole damn house.”

\---

Rick didn’t bother to ask Cliff if he wished to spend the night since Cliff would probably use the excuse that Rick’s had enough of him again. Plus, Rick couldn’t lie that he’s been itching to use the pool all week and it wouldn’t be fair for him to float out there while Cliff did whatever.

It took him until he came back in for the night to realize just how much he had gotten used to living in the cramped space with more than one living being. He always thought his place was fully well stocked with his memorabilia to make it feel alive but all he could do was focus on how much room he had to move in and that his own eyes that watched him on every wall felt more like ghosts than anything. He was literally alone with himself, multiple selves, but he was the only one he could converse with and get a response. What a fucking lonely life he lead. 

“Rick, y-you are not missing that place, alright? Cliff finds out and you will n-never hear the f-fucking end of it until your last day.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I still got more fic ideas in my queue but some of them I might hold off until the novel is out to see if I get more info. But a couple I won't need it for so I won't go completely dark for the next six months, hopefully. The pandemic numbers in LA are still 'oof' so just gotta keep surviving and avoid getting it. :x


End file.
